The Saint's Hair and the Sealed World
As I watched the saint, one thing began to nag at me. …Isn’t her bangs way too long?
She kept sweeping them behind her ears to keep them out of her eyes, but they were just the wrong length and kept slipping forward again. The messy hair at the back of her head also spilled over her shoulders in a tangled mess.
At this rate, she’s going to end up eating her hair along with the ramen…
I pulled a hair tie out of my subspace. It had been a while since I’d tied anyone’s hair, so I wasn’t sure how well I’d manage. Still, I reached out toward the saint’s head with careful hands.
“Hya—?!”
“Ah, sorry. It looked like your hair would get in the way while you were eating.”
“…You startled me.”
The saint stared up at me with wide, round eyes. Her ears had turned bright red all the way to the tips. Feeling a little awkward, I scratched my cheek and asked,
“Would you rather do it yourself?”
“…I’m not very good at it.”
“Then, would it be all right if I did it for you?”
After a brief hesitation, the saint gave a small nod. I slowly gathered her hair with one hand. It looked incredibly messy and I’d expected it to feel stiff, but it was surprisingly soft.
I guess I can just tie the front and back together.
With my other hand, I brushed her bangs upward. In that moment, our eyes met.
“Ah?”
“…Ah.”
Now that the bangs were gone, her golden eyes were fully revealed. Even in the dim corridor lit only by faint moonlight, they shone clear and vivid, as if they were glowing on their own.
“They’re beautiful.”
“…Hweh?”
The saint stared at me with her mouth hanging open in a daze.
“Your eyes, I mean.”
“Ah, ah-uh…”
The saint lowered her head slightly, her gaze darting around in every direction. Her mouth opened and closed like a broken doll before she finally covered her face with both hands. The skin visible between her fingers was an even deeper shade of red than before. It was redder than a chocolate bar wrapper. I hadn’t realized a person’s face could turn that red. It was fascinating.
“It’s hard to tie your hair if you’re covering your face like that. Could you lower your head just a little?”
“L-like this?”
“Yes. Perfect.”
I combined the front and back sections and began tying them together. Her hair wound smoothly between my fingers.
“Tell me if it hurts.”
“It’s okay even if it hurts!”
“…That’s not okay at all.”
Since this was my first time tying someone else’s hair, the result was a bit clumsy. And because this was the saint, I suspected she wouldn’t complain even if it did hurt, so I tied it extra gently. Maybe that was why it came out rather loose and sloppy.
This feels completely different from when I tie my own hair.
Well, as long as it kept the hair out of her mouth, it was fine. The saint seemed to like it too; she clasped her hands together and let out a soft sound of wonder.
“I can see!”
“I’m glad.”
By now the ramen should be fully cooked. When I lifted the lid, a cloud of fragrant steam rose up.
“Whoa…”
The saint leaned forward, stretching her neck to peer into the cup. Since her hair was no longer falling into her face, I must have done a decent job after all. I scooped some noodles and broth into her plate.
“You can eat now. Be careful, it’s hot.”
“Yeah. Thank you. I’ll enjoy it.”
“Sure. Eat well.”
The saint nodded and carefully picked up her chopsticks.
…Wait a second.
Maybe I should have given her a fork? In manga, characters were usually terrible with chopsticks. When I first tried using them, the food kept slipping and it had been a real struggle. I was just about to pull out a fork when—
“Hoo, hoo—”
The saint skillfully lifted a neat bundle of noodles with her chopsticks. Not a single strand slipped as she brought them cleanly to her mouth.
…Huh? She’s good at this.
In fact, her movements looked far more natural than mine. Not that I was particularly skilled with chopsticks. Chunsam, Bari’s secretary, always frowned whenever he saw the way I handled them.
Before I could stop myself, I said in genuine admiration,
“Wow, you’re really good with chopsticks.”
“Hm?”
“I thought you wouldn’t know how to use them at all.”
The saint blinked at me. Only then did I realize how strange that must have sounded—like I had deliberately given her a tool I knew she couldn’t use. I panicked and rushed to explain.
“N-no, I didn’t give them to you because I thought you couldn’t use them! It’s just… I’m so used to chopsticks that I forgot it might be difficult for you.”
“Ah, I see.”
At my clumsy excuse, the saint let out a soft, breathy laugh. “Puhuhu—”
“I can use them. I’m good with other utensils too.”
“Other utensils?”
“Yeah. This world is a gathering place for people and beings from many different worlds. That’s why there are so many kinds of tableware.”
Her cryptic words filled me with questions. A world that included non-human beings? Did that mean it was a place where different races coexisted? But she had said many different worlds. Travel between worlds was possible, but because it made management nearly impossible, most realms were kept isolated. If crossing over had been easy and frequent, I wouldn’t have been assigned to handle isekai transition cases in the first place.
As far as I knew, there was only one place where all worlds could freely connect without restriction: the Underworld. It was linked to every world that contained life. Yet this place was supposedly unconnected to the Underworld while still being linked to other worlds?
What kind of nonsense…
The saint had said earlier that there was no way to leave this world. Connected to other worlds, yet unable to leave? It sounded like some kind of “open church, closed church” paradox.
My confusion must have shown on my face. The saint fidgeted uncomfortably and set her chopsticks down.
“…Ah, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it and finish eating.”
“No, I’ve eaten plenty.”
“That’s ridiculous…”
The moment I checked the cup ramen, I had no choice but to agree with her. Of the huge pile of noodles that had been there, only a small fistful remained.
…Good thing I didn’t give her a regular-sized cup. That could have been a disaster.
I glanced at the saint. Her fragile body looked like it might crumble at a touch, yet her belly was now slightly rounded.
At least she won’t be making any stomach growling noises.
I decided it was time to clear up the questions I had been holding onto.
“Could you continue what you were saying earlier?”
“Yeah. So… there’s no way to leave this world.”
“No way to leave?”
The saint nodded.
“The mages and other beings who knew how to cross dimensions all tried everything they could. …But they all failed.”
“…Like how I failed to open the gate to the Underworld?”
“Yes. I don’t fully understand it, but everyone said it felt like something was blocking them…”
I tilted my head without thinking. Blocked? Wasn’t that obvious?
Crossing dimensions was never simple. Trying to force your way through while ignoring the laws of the universe naturally created resistance. It was far harder than swimming upstream against a massive waterfall.
…But I was different. I was a god—an existence permitted by the laws of the universe. For me to be blocked made no sense.
I tried opening the gate to the Underworld again. The power I gathered in one spot twisted and scattered as if crushed by some invisible force.
…So this is what being blocked feels like?
No matter how many times I tried, the result was the same. The more I attempted it, the faster the power dissipated.
What kind of force is at work here?
I also tried opening a portal to another dimension. The outcome was identical. No—in this case, unlike the gate to the Underworld, not even the portal’s shape would form. It felt as if my power slammed into a solid wall, completely cut off from its intended direction.
“…What the hell is this?”
This world wasn’t simply closed. I could sense a powerful will actively trying to sever all external contact at its source. And yet the saint had clearly said it earlier. That this world was a gathering place for beings from many different worlds.
I grabbed the saint’s shoulders in a hurry.
“Saint, you definitely said that earlier, right? That there are beings from many different worlds here.”
“Ah, yes.”
“Many different worlds? How do you know that? Can you be certain?”
At my urgent question, the saint blinked in momentary confusion. But then she nodded quietly. Her eyes held an indescribable sadness and an unshakable certainty.
“This world used to be just me.”
“Just you?”
“Yes.”
Her voice trembled.
“I was alone for so long. But I wanted to leave this place… There was something I missed so badly…”
As she spoke, tears welled up in the saint’s eyes.
“…So I made a request. And then a crack formed between dimensions.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
Even as I listened to the explanation, none of it made sense. Who could she have asked that would cause a dimensional rift? Since when did those appear just because you asked?
I couldn’t hide the bewilderment in my voice.
“Who did you ask? Did you pray to some god?”
“…A dragon.”
“……Pardon?”
What? Was I dreaming? I pinched my cheek hard.
…It hurt like hell.
Half-dazed, I listened as the saint continued.
“From the crack that appeared, beings started coming through one by one. People arrived, elves arrived, strange machines arrived…”
“…Ah.”
I nodded absentmindedly. It seemed like I understood, yet my mind remained a complete mess.
Just what is this world?